The Roadhouse is full of strange people
by Ophelia Flood
Summary: A short snippet of time at the Roadhouse.  There are other Hunters out there and sometimes they and their lives are just as weird as the Winchesters.  Somewhat TWT.  K  to be on the safe side.


_(Standard disclaimers apply. I don't hold copyright to any characters or places identifiable within the TV series Supernatural. I do however reserve the idea of the physical representation of the creatures in paragraph three as mine. I use New Zealand/British English. This ficlet is somewhat Timeline-What Timeline?)_

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An awkward silence crashed down upon the Roadhouse as each hunter in turn noticed her legs. About ten centimeters down from the knee there were only oddly shaped fiberglass prosthetics, but damn, the rest of those legs were fine. Sure, she was a little odd for wearing a mini-skirt, but then the Roadhouse was full of strange people. Slowly, everyone turned back to their drinks.

The woman ordered a Rum and Coke as she perched herself on a barstool and asked if the Roadhouse had a room spare for the night. Unfortunately not. 'Sleeping in the car again tonight. Damn,' she thought.

Half way through her drink she ordered a basket of fries and sat there eating them quietly. No one but the bar woman had spoken a word to her. These men were all hunters, one hunter can usually tell another but it seemed these guys hadn't quite twigged to the fact she was one of them. She took off her jacket and let it drop with a thunk on the ground beside her. It was warm in the bar, so the removal of the jacket wasn't conspicuous, the huge bubbled scars running across her back and down her shoulder were. Any hunter worth their salt knew what caused those scars. Incubi and succubi were akin to human and octopus hybrids in their true form, and to be scarred by one like that meant you had them cornered and either they were going down or you were.

The mood changed and a young hunter, a lot closer to her age than the rest of them came and seated himself on the barstool beside her.  
"If you don't mind my asking... how did you lose your legs?" He asked. The woman turned out to be surprisingly forthcoming, for a Hunter.

"Would you believe, for my fifteenth birthday my uncle tried to kill me. The rat bastard gave me a Diomedian Mare for a gift." She snorted a little in laughter at the memory.

"Wow, I didn't think they existed. That they were only myth." He said.

"No, there's actually a breeder in Turkey who specialises in them. They're actually really sweet horses as long as you don't try to ride them." She took another sip from her drink and a fry from the basket.

"So the horse tried to eat you?" he asked, slightly amazed, then took a drink of his own beer.

"Yup, bucked me off, I hit my head on a jump and came to with Sweetie-Belle munching on the stumps of my legs. She must have liked me, she started at the bottom." She snorted. The man looked a little green at this and then ventured another question "So did you get back at your uncle?"

The woman grinned darkly. "I introduced him to a pretty woman I met at a S & M gathering. She's very pleased with her new pet, especially as he actually deserves his punishments. Although, I think the geas I cast preventing him from speaking may have something to do with it too."  
The man winced a little at the thought. This wasn't a woman to piss off.

"So... What happened to Sweetie-Belle?"

"Oh I still have her" the woman grinned, "She makes a great cart horse. She's excellent when I can't afford petrol." The woman drained the last of the glass and ordered another. The man stared at his drink a moment, apparently all the cute ones really were either crazy, or demons.

At least this one was only a bit crazy. Maybe Dean wouldn't tease him about this one.

Turning her whole body to face him she asked "So, did you hear about the chimeras in Salt Lake? I'm headed there next, you wanna come with?"  
He smiled. "Let me just go ask my brother if we've got anything more urgent, if we do, you could tag along with us...?"

She looked at him over the rim of her lemonade glass and shrugged.


End file.
